Loneliness of Summers Passed and Winter's Present
by DaniellaPeirce
Summary: When she came back, she wasn't her. And it certainly wasn't love that drove them to it. No, that it was not.
1. Chapter 1

**_Loneliness of Summers Passed and Winter's_**** Present.**

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in A Song of Ice and Fire, I'm just playing with them for a little while.

*Feels like the previous line is a little redundant on FanFiction. Net.*

Summary: When she came back, she wasn't _her. _And it most certainly wasn't love that drove them to it. No, that it was not.

Genre: Romance/Angst

* * *

When she had come back, she wasn't _her._

Well, she was, Jon mused. But that was only in looks, if it could count for anything at all.

Because the little girl who'd chased the dogs around Winterfell with him was now long since a woman, with a woman's body and features that looked so shockingly like his own that it made him pause.

This stranger that was both familiar and foreign made him want to cry some days when he could not-and would not be allowed to- bridge the ravine between them now, when before all this-before the War- there wouldn't have been even a gap to jump. She had been his favourite of Lord Stark's other children, one of the few in Winterfell that did not treat him as if his bastard status meant anything.

Lady of Winterfell, now she was. Her younger brothers either still missing or too young to rule by themselves as Kings in the North.

But, for a time, she had her Lady sister's help with the etiquettes of court; but Sansa too had to leave to her new life as Lady of the Flowers.

She hadn't kicked and complained as he had first thought she would; ruling or being a Lady was not something a younger Arya Stark would have accepted gladly. But this woman-this warrior-Queen- took control of armies larger than even King Aegon's and the Little Queen's, and she sat alone atop the throne in Winterfell's hall.

Chin raised haughtily, she denied marriage to the new Lord of Storm's End. And again she rejected the new Prince of Dorne.

She did, however, start a liaison with the 99th Lord Commander.

Mayhaps it was the familiarity of the relationship she sought; something safe in a world full of danger and lies.

But it most certainly wasn't love that drove them to it, or anything truly close to what they had as children. Not, that it was not.

Their couplings were always fierce and hard and angry, as if they took their loneliness from the past six years out on each other in those few moments they had to spend away from court.

His brother, King Aegon, had once tried to court her.

She had called him a ponce and poured wine over his head when he had called her comely.

Jon knew that if they had not already been allies with a long-standing friendship, that night would have given the young Queen in the North no small amount of ill tidings.

The King had not been pleased though, and had asked Jon to bring the matter of both the marriage and insult up one day.

He hadn't. Because he knew that Arya would not care-she never cared anymore.

Jon thought that maybe it was his second month there at Winterfell when he was called back to the Wall to negotiate with the Freefolk again.

She did not seem to care about that either, and he did not see the way her grey eyes tightened, or the way she held herself even tighter, if it were possible, when he told her that he made for the Wall.

Or at the very least, he pretended. Theirs was a destructive relationship, one that brought out the worst in the other, and he had no right to be in her life anymore.

Least of all as her lover.

But _gods_ he loved her. And she did not feel the same; he was not even sure she could love anymore. That for her to love something openly now would be to admit weakness.

So he bowed before her feet at court, as others, strangers who barely knew what either of them had been through, watched on silent and stony-faced.

And he left.

* * *

_D.P~_ **_So, hey guys. I was overwhelmed with Jon/Arya feels today and came up with this. I hoped_****_you enjoyed it. If you want to, you can leave a review, too.  
I may continue with this, as there aren't really that many fics for this Ship and if I'm the one who has to write them, then so be it.  
*sad sigh* But until next time._**


	2. Chapter 2

_So, a big thank you to Jenny Hall and the guest who reviewed._

_You guys are awesome and stuff._

* * *

**_Loneliness of Summers Passed and Winter's_****_Present._**

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in A Song of Ice and Fire, I'm just playing with them for a little while.

*Feels like the previous line is a little redundant on FanFiction. Net.*

Summary: When she came back, she wasn't _her. _And it most certainly wasn't love that drove them to it. No, that it was not.

Genre: Romance/Angst

* * *

A raven came a year or two later, when the war between the Free Folk had died down and the court matters of the Southron's had been settled.

What startled him most was that it did not bear the symbol of the King, but of Stark.

It told of the heir to the North, the Lady Arya's own daughter. A bastard Stark child, birthed by the Queen herself. Though the letter was not written by her, but by her brother Rickon.

No doubt the court in King's Landing weren't too happy about their counterpart kingdom being lead by an out-of-wedlock mother, or the fact that the North would be lead by a woman, and a bastard no less, one day.

But what hurt Jon the most was that he knew, he knew that the babe mentioned was his, and she had not sent him a raven before this. Did not ever mention before he left that she was with child at all.

And it was also the fact that he knew Aegon would be persuaded by his Council to renounce Arya of her claim as Queen, that she would be married off to some Lord of somewhere not important and her little brother would be placed upon the throne to the North so that she could be forgotten.

Arya knew that Rickon was too wild, despite his betrothed's influence, and Jon knew that that was why she was fighting so hard to stay as Head of the House Stark.

The poor boy deserved freedom, and now that Jon thought back on it, Arya had been doing that for Rickon since she had returned to Westeros six years ago.

She had freed him of Lord Stannis, but had spared the faux king's daughter Shireen for the sake of her brother. She had destroyed House Bolten and picked off the Freys so that her family would be safe; and there were only two Starks left to the world.

Now lived a third, young and new and innocent.

.

.

When Aegon had announced that he was visiting Winterfell, Jon's heart dropped.

When the King had sent a raven for him, Jon Snow was as nervous as a green boy wielding a sword the first time.

So he had ridden south with a few of his best men, leaving Sam to lead the men at the Wall in his absence.

The first person to greet him was a little girl in a muddy gown. It had showered a little prior to Jon arriving, and this child was covered from head to toe in muck.

Dark hair a mess and eyes so blue they were almost violet in the lame light. But it was the long face that made him pause.

She curtsied before him and rose with a awe-struck smile. "Welcome to Winterfell, My Lord."

He gave her a smile and she giggled before disappearing into the throng of people awaiting him.

"Jon!" Aegon greeted, arms raised and a grin plastering his face. He pulled his brother into a hug before stepping back and allowing his wife Arianne Martell to curtsy and have her hand kissed.

"It is a pleasure to meet you again, my Lady." Jon said with practised ease.

Arianne smiled, a flash of wicked teeth. "And to you, Lord Commander."

Aegon steered him back towards Winterfell Castle, greeting Rickon along the way; the boy long since losing the fat around his face, making it seem longer; almost looking like his elder sister.

The hall was lively, hosting some of Aegon's finest knights and almost all of Arya's.

The Queen sat on the tier with Aegon's aunt and wife, Lady Daenerys, and a handful of other ladies and lords, her plate untouched.

She stared with hard, grey eyes across the crowd; searching.

A cry of child's laughter rang high and true through the hall, and a small body weaved itself in between drunken men and smiling women.

The little girl in the mud-caked dress came to a stop before the platform and curtsied before the High Ladies of Westeros.

Arya's mouth pulled down in a scowl, and Jon noticed that the ruckus had died down.

"You are late," the Queen in the North admonished.

The little girl blew a stray lock of dark hair from her face and smiled sheepishly. "I was greeting the Lord Commander, mother."

Jon froze and watched as the girl turned to gesture to him, talking herself out of trouble in a way he'd seen Arya do when she was a child.

Arya did not even bother to comment on her child's state of attire, and instead waved her away.

"Brya, go sit with your cousins."

When it looked as if the girl would argue, an older child beckoned her over to their table nearest to the platform.

"Come, Brya."

The boy's sister joined in quick enough, her curly red locks swirling around her round little face. "Yes, sit with us!"

Brya's face fell at the lack of emotion, it seemed, that her mother showed towards her, and trudged over towards the Tyrells.

Jon followed Brya's movements to the table and locked eyes with Sansa. Her bow mouth pulled down at the sides ever so slightly into a look of displeasure, and Jon wondered just what he was being judged for.

It was much like seeing a ghost of Lady Catelyn, the way she sat with her back straight and fire-kissed hair pulled back.

He nodded towards her, pushing away the memory.

But as soon as he did, she glanced away to scold her brood for being loud, and did not turn back towards him.

Arya then turned her attentions from chatting with Daenerys to looking at Jon, face lean and chin held high.

Whatever chatter had begun were once again silenced simply by her posture.

"My Lords and Ladies," she said, glancing left and right, and then down to where the Tyrells were seated with her daughter. "My Northmen," she gestured with her chin to the people gathered in her hall. "Tonight we welcome not only the Southron Court and their King and Queens, but also the 99th Lord Commander of the Nights Watch, into Winterfell's walls."

A cheer ran up and down the mob around him, and when Arya raised her thin hands they quieted.

"So we will celebrate!"

The music and noise started anew.  
.

.

"Why was I not told?"  
Arya turned from the railings, face twisted unattractively. "She is mine and mine alone, Jon." She snapped. "She knows little of you. Brya does not need to know that he father could've also been her uncle."

That slap hurt him more than any physical one could, and he sighed angrily. "How will you explain away her eyes should they lighten, Arya? What will you do then?"

Arya pursed her lips, her anger gone, and cocked her tightly braided head to the side. "I suppose I could wed Edric Dayne," she mused aloud. "Ask it of him to claim my child. " She paused. "But that will be long after Rickon is King. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell."

Jon's hands clenched so that he did not reach out and touch her. Shake her, anything to stop her from being so cold.

She saw the look on his face and chuckled unexpectedly; it unnerved him. The sound was too brief to be a real one, and he could see her composure slipping.

"I was japing," she told him, and then frowned. "I suppose I would have to tell all of Westeros that I am a whore, though they know this fact already."

Jon sighed tiredly and raked a hand through his hair. "You're not a whore."

Arya's mouth pulled down, and she turned from him. "Yes," she snapped quickly. "Do not think I don't know that!"

Jon fell silent, as he usually did when they argued; it mostly gave her time to calm herself or figure out how next she wished to abuse him.

"Arya-"

She growled in frustration, and the sound was echoed a few feet away where her wolf lay. "Oh hush, Nymeria."

Jon gave her a look. "Mayhaps if you weren't so worked up, she wouldn't act as such."

Arya scowled at him. "It is entirely your fault that I am."

Jon's brow rose. "Oh?"

The vulpine look came back to her features, and then disappeared into a calm mask. "Bryanna does not need to know, nor will she. You coming back has complicated everything."

Jon felt anger and an overwhelming sense of guilt prick at him, and he made to grab for her. He should have known better than to think he would even touch her.

Arya danced out of the way silently, and Jon came face to face with her direwolf instead.

She wasn't snarling per se, but the way the she-wolf held herself was a warning, blocking his view of her mistress.

Jon wasn't in the mood for his cousin's ire. "_Arya_?" he asked the dark.

But she was already gone.

* * *

_D.P~__**The next chapter will not be in Jon's point of view. Maybe Arya's or Bryanna's, haven't decided yet.**_


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